Drowning
by Snowlia
Summary: Valentine Morgenstern always did what needed to be done for the sake of the Shadowhunters, even if it meant killing his own Parabati.


A/N: So I am notorious at this point for having ridiculously long stories that people are about ready to choke someone halfway through. However, I finally bring you one that is only 5 pages on Microsoft. VICTORY. Anyway this is an idea I had while at work one day. I hope you enjoy.

"How far away are we now?"

Valentine's shoulder involuntarily tensed. Lucian's voice, so full of trust and innocence, it grated against his skin, pulling at his heart. He did his best to push it away, seal his emotions up. He had a job to do. "When I scouted it out the pack hadn't laid down far from here. It should only be another minute."

Lucian was too distracted by the mission at hand, if he heard the unease in Valentine's voice, he didn't say anything.

Lucian remained quiet for the next few moments and for his silence Valentine was grateful. That was until they saw the prints.

Sets of paws were dancing among human footprints in the soft dirt of the forest. They all were heading in the same direction. They really weren't far now. Valentine could smell the scent of dog wafting around them. If he looked closely enough, opened up his sense, he could see the claw marks on the trees, the tuffs of fur stuck on twigs and leaves.

Lucian drew his knife. "You're certain this is the pack? The one that attacked the village outside of Allicate?"

Valentine just nodded, pretending he was afraid of alerting the pack; in reality he didn't trust his voice.

This was it.

He moved forward, his steps quieter and more undetectable than most other creatures in the forest. The Parabati didn't go far before they reached the clearing. Scattered about among the sparse trees wolves slept, some still in human form lounging with their backs to trees or sprawled over their brothers and sisters. Tents dotted here and there, no doubt holding more of the beasts. A campfire was dead but still smoking in the middle of the clearing.

Lucian's breath stirred the air, making wisps of vapors, rising in Valentine's peripheral vision. "Here we go." There was no fear in Lucian's voice, only anticipation and a bit of anxiety. He was excited, adrenalin running.

Valentine envied him for a moment, he wished that familiar feeling of heat rushing through his blood was with him tonight, but all he felt was cold. His heart seemed barely pumping and his movements slowed, as if everything were surrounded in water. No matter how much he tried to push the feeling away, all he felt was that cold and numb, drowning him.

"How many do you think there are?"

Valentine shrugged, rolling his shoulder and not liking the light pop it made. "Less than fifteen, more than ten."

The younger man nodded, eager to get going. "We can take that."

Valentine studied the sleeping wolves with a careful eye. Lucian was right of course, the two of them had taken on more than this. He and Lucian were undefeatable; the ultimate fighting team.

Valentine inhaled deeply through his nose, closing his eyes for a moment before turning to Lucian. "You know the plan. We can take out at least three each, maybe four or five, before they even start moving."

Lucian nodded, his eyes bright as he studied the sleeping animals. Valentine wasted a moment, just staring at his friend. Lucian's face was drawn in determination, a bead of sweat dotting the tip of his nose. His face was clean-shaven. He must have just done it that morning because Valentine felt like there had been scruff yesterday.

Lucian's eyes were flickering back and forth, counting the animals, analyzing the situation. Valentine's eye twitched, he felt it, but he was glad that was it. That cold feeling was still creeping through his veins. Numb.

The other man's lips pursed in a hard line as he came to some sort of conclusion. Valentine knew what he was doing; he was figuring the best plan of approach, trying to think of what Valentine would do and how he could work off of that. For a moment a smile pulled at Valentine's lips. Everything Lucian knew, Valentine had taught him. He was proud.

Lucian's eyes darted to Valentine's.

There was a determination in his eyes. There was calculation, there was anxiety and there was resolution. But there was no love.

When he used to look Valentine in the eye there was admiration and care. He used to love Valentine. Maybe he still trusted him, but a wall had gone up, separating the Parabati. It was silent, unspoken, but Valentine could feel its presence and it hurt. A stone barrier around his heart was pierced by just that look, that single gaze. It wasn't even that Lucian hated him, he just didn't care for him.

Lucian didn't love him anymore.

And then Valentine had his arm around Lucian, wrapped around one shoulder, the other hand on his knife, ready to go. He leaned in, pressing his lips to Lucian's forehead quickly in a completely out of character gesture. His lips parted, eyes closed as he breathed a silent prayer against his Parabati's skin.

He pulled away, ignoring Lucian's shocked stare, now tinted with the edges of fear, and turned back to the scene at hand. "Let's go."

And then the water came rushing in.

Valentine didn't quite remember the next few minutes; it was like a dream. He watched things happen but didn't quite remember making them happen. He was moving in slow motion and yet it all went by so fast.

He remembered the creatures, sleeping in piles, on top of one another and some curled up on their own. He remembered watching them all, through vision clouded with apathy-or maybe it was tears-as he stepped through their territory, his footprints marring their own. From his belt he drew his blade, moved by some force outside of his own body, holding it by his side but really it was nothing more than a prop.

Silently he slipped behind a tent as he heard Lucian strike the first wolf.

A yelp, then another; a confused whine and then a snarl and another. The growls were rising together, turning into a chorus of malice and death. He heard Lucian from somewhere far off yelling, but it was through the water, his voice twisted and warbled.

"_Valentine."_

It was faint and distant, but it was a cry for help, of confusion and fear and Valentine felt the numb feeling flowing down to his legs. His step wavered and he almost fell as he moved back into the woods, abandoning the fight behind him and moving forward.

Determination kept him straight, the water encircling him kept him from hearing the screams and howls too loudly. They were muffled for his benefit, making it easier to deal with what he had done.

Making him feel like less of a monster.

But he wasn't a monster, or maybe he was, but it didn't really matter. He had done what he had to.

It was mantra, repeated over and over in his head. What choice had he had? Lucian no longer loved him, no longer trusted him.

His own Parabati stood between The Circle and Utopia for his entire noble race. This was a war, sacrifices had to be made. Problems had to be taken care of. Lucian had become a problem, he was compromising everything; everything Valentine had given his life to do. Nothing was more important than saving the human race from the Hell creatures that threatened them.

Lucian had to be destroyed.

And Valentine had tried-Angel had he tried-to get rid of Lucian himself. To slide a blade between his ribs as he slept, it would have been a sweet death; no pain, no fear. It would have been kinder, gentler.

But Valentine could not.

Never had he found himself in a position where he couldn't do what had to be done. But he could not kill Lucian. In his sleep Lucian looked so beautiful, so peaceful, every bit the boy who had followed him like a puppy when they were teenagers. Even in his waking moments he looked the same, the wall was there now, holding back any feelings of warmth he ever had for Valentine, but Valentine could remember.

Sometimes when Lucian looked at him, he saw fear. Never in his life had anything hurt him so badly as when Lucian looked at him like that. Once his best friend, now a fearing disbeliever, standing on the border of becoming a threat to him and all he held dear.

But Lucian had to be removed. There was no other way. If Valentine were too much a coward to do it himself, he would let the beasts. He should have done it though, he knew. Lucian was being ripped apart, destroyed horribly and painfully. Valentine was nothing if not a selfish man, he was aware, but now because of his selfishness to not kill Lucian himself, his friend's end was all pain and fear.

He would kill the dogs tomorrow, for what they had done. Though really, it was as much his fault as it was theirs.

Valentine could feel the water now, touching his face, blurring his vision and running down his cheeks, staining his lips with salt and dripping off onto his coat. It was hard to breathe underwater, he was almost gasping, choking on his own thoughts and gagging as the water pressed in on his throat. It wrapped around his legs, sending him staggering into a tree.

Gripping it for support he buried his face in his arm. How far was he? It was silent here, but he could still hear himself gasping for breath, the chittering of night creatures, moving here and there. They were unaware of what he had done and yet he felt their eyes on him, judging him and his sins.

But he had to do it.

People were dying; innocent lives lost every moment the Shadowhunters did not quell the rising spirits from Hell. Surely the Angel would forgive him. Surely one life lost would be worth it for the thousands that would be saved.

But why had that one life had to be Lucian's?

The water was too heavy, he couldn't hold himself up under its weight and he collapsed to the ground, still holding the tree, gripping it like it could save him from his own deeds.

Valentine tried to move his lips, but were wet and heavy with moisture. The taste of salt slid over his tongue, bitter and mocking. He swallowed hard as he tried to blink away the water from his eyes.

"Hail…hail and f-farewell Lucian Graymark."

Valentine let his head fall against the trunk of the tree, his nails digging into the bark as his hands shook and he choked under the weight. The water pouring from his eyes as the forest and all of Heaven judged him.

It was the first time, but not the last, that Valentine Morgenstern's heart was shattered in a million pieces, and he wondered if he had really done the right thing, as he began to drown.


End file.
